To Love and Lose
by GreenWood Elf
Summary: Figwit meets the March Warden's finacee in Rivendell and deems it love at first sight. He sets out to capture her heart, but will he find true love, or will he lose to Haldir?
1. Default Chapter

Authors' Note: Hello and welcome to my first ever real humor fanfiction! I was going to make this story very depressing, but then decided against it. I know that the female elf may seem like a Mary-Sue in the first chapter, but believe me, she is not. You will see this in the next chapter. She is only perfect in Figwit's eyes, so goes the saying, love is blind. Oh and for those of you who don't know, Figwit is an elf who is present during the Council of Elrond in the movie. He is also in ROTK. Well, I hope you enjoy it, so please review and tell me what you think! Happy Reading!  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings.  
  
To Love and Lose  
  
Chapter 1 Love at First Sight.  
  
His hand descended slowly down to the leather bound book. His fingers trembled slightly as he touched the cover of it. She was watching him, he could feel it. The small talk and light chatter that had occupied the corner of Rivendell's library had suddenly ceased to exist. Sweat formed on his brow as he concentrated on his most difficult task ever.picking up his fallen book. Figwit nearly broke under the pressure. Of course, on a normal day he would simply have bent down and grasped the stray literary treasure. But today was different. Today, she had come to the library. And now, his elvish senses had picked up her movements. She was standing up and slowly walking over. Oh Valar help me! His mind raced in fear. She would be upon him in a matter of seconds. He would surely perish! Maybe he could make a run for it. But no, then she might think him affected. It took every ounce of poor Figwit's courage to stand where he was. Oh what madness has befallen me, his thoughts cried out.  
  
It had all started three days ago. Summertime had reached Imladris in surprising strength. A gentle breeze was hard to catch and even the most composed elves sweated in their robes. It was on this blazing day, that Figwit, a young councilor in training, had come upon her. Now to truly understand how much this affected our dear elf, you must know more about him. Figwit was your normal, young, naïve, elf of Imladris. He had grown up slowly like many elflings under the protective care of his parents. And when they had crossed the sea a few decades ago, the kindly Lord Elrond, along with his advisors Glorfindel and Erestor, had taken him in. To be quite honest, Figwit had never dreamt of a life of counseling. He had always wanted to become a strong and brave warrior, who feared neither death nor battle. But since Eru had given him the small, weak body of a scholar, the young elf had been forced to give up his dreams of glory on the battlefield. Always small for his age, Figwit became the butt of many jokes and pranks, the twin sons of Elrond not the least among his tormentors. But still, he grew up well and because of the constant teasing that accompanied his young years, the elf kept to himself mostly. Figwit preferred the quiet library now to the wild antics of his peers. Yet still, he yearned for something more in his boring life. He needed something or someone to bring him out of his slump. And until three days ago, that person had not been found. But then the Valar smiled upon their most overlooked child. She had come with the messengers of Lothlorien. She had pounded through the gate atop her fiery brown stallion. Her golden hair streaming behind her and her silver attire whipping in the wind brought about by the speed of her mount. The maiden had dismounted with a graceful movement, her small feet making no sound on the mossy ground. Servants came and took their horses from them. She then wiped the sweat from her brow and sighed deeply. She then turned to her counterparts and motioned for them to follow her into the Last Homely House. Figwit would have followed her if Elladan and Elrohir had not come up behind him and drenched him with a jug of ice water. But still, the young elf's face was flushed. He had just seen the most beautiful elf maid ever.  
It seemed that fate, not Lord Elrond, had in fact summoned him to his council room. Figwit had barely enough time to change his robes and dry his hair. When he had finally arrived (ten minutes late) his lord had been kind enough to spare him a tongue lashing and allowed him to keep his dignity somewhat intact. Yet there she sat amongst her kin. Her cheeks were white and delicately set upon her high facial bones. Her lips were full, moist and a cool shade of pink. The maiden's body was shapely, yet thin beneath her light attire. Upon her back was strapped a quiver for arrows and by her feet rested her silver bow. Figwit shivered slightly when she turned and looked at him.  
"Are you feeling alright, Figwit?" Elrond looked down at him with concern. "You do seem to be very flushed."  
"I am fine my lord," the young elf whispered breathlessly. "In fact I have never been better in my life." The elf-lord frowned in slight confusion when he said this.  
"Would you mind taking a seat then," he pointed to a chair that sat a few down from the maiden. Figwit nodded distractedly and moved to sit. Elrond glanced up at Glorfindel and Erestor who sniggered ever so quietly from where they stood. The Lord of Imladris addressed the newcomers politely. They were speaking of some important matter, orcs no doubt. But the young councilor's attention strayed. His eyes moved up and down the elleth who sat just mere feet away from him. She was a soldier of some sort. Her garb suggested so. He watched as she gracefully raised her hand to scratch an itch on the tip of her pointed ear. Oh, how magnificently she moved! A few long moments passed by and then suddenly without warning, the female made one of the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard. She sneezed! Figwit shuddered violently and put his hand across his heart. He had been struck by cupid's arrow! But this little bringer of love had decided to strike him upside the head, instead of the heart. To his great shock, the elf learned that the cupid was none other than Elrond! He looked up at his lord in amazement.  
"Figwit!" the lord's tone had lost all its patience. "Have you been paying attention? Have you even heard a word that was said?" The elf thought quickly, he would have to say something smart to get himself out of this.  
"Nay, my lord, I have not."  
After the meeting had been concluded Figwit had received that sound tongue lashing. But it had all been worth it, just to see her. The next two days were spent with much care and preparation on his part. He quickly learned her habits and daily routine. Then, he simply followed her at a great distance. This plan had worked quite well for him, until they met up in the library.  
  
It had all come down to this now. She was leaning over him, her hand outstretched. Figwit took great care to notice her even, clean nails and smooth skin. It all appeared to be happening in slow motion. Slowly, she picked up the leather bound book. Slowly she straightened to a standing position. And oh so slowly did he manage to stand. The maiden glanced over the cover and made a small noise of recognition. Then she thrust the book back into his hands.  
"You dropped this," her voice was heavy with indifference. With that said she turned on her heel and left the library. Figwit clasped his hands together and once more dropped his book. It was love at first sight!  
  
Elleth: female elf 


	2. Chapter 2 The Maiden Has a Name

Authors' Note: Here is my second chapter. Thank you so much for the reviews I have received so far. As one of you pointed out, Figwit is not really his name. Yes, I was aware of that. He does have an elvish name; it is something along the lines of Melpomaen. I put Figwit instead because he is known by that. And this is also a comedy so I wanted to give him a more humorous name. Thanks again for the reviews. I hope you enjoy it! 

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings.

Chapter 2 The Maiden Has a Name

            Minyoiel turned on her heel and marched silently out of the extensive Imladris library. Her trained elven ears picked up the sound of the book clattering to the floor once more and a rather girlish gasp. She smirked in an amused manner as she recalled the face of the young advisor. He had been outright gaping at her. The Lorien elf flung open the heavy wooden door and prayed to the Valar that some soft breeze would play upon her sun burnt cheeks. This was going to be a long summer. The elleth sauntered down the sweltering hall until she caught her reflection in a hanging mirror. A small frown graced her lips as she took in her rather unusual appearance. A week or two of riding in the blazing sun had taken its effect on her. The elf's nails were chipped and dirty from their constant hold on her horse's mane. Her face was pink from the heat and her delicate ears were peppered with mosquito bits. Ai Elbereth they itched! And over this past three days, Minyoiel had not ceased to find a twig embedded somewhere in her golden crown of hair. Though she had these few defects, the beauty of the elves still shone through her. Yet, why did the Lady have to send her to Imladris for the summer? Lord Elrond knew very well that the orcs were increasing in number; he did not need her to tell him. But why she thought he needed more soldiers was quite beyond the maiden. Now she would have to spend the entire season in this hot elven refuge instead of under the great mellyrn in the arms of her beloved. The female turned from her mirror gazing and continued to walk down the hall. Oh, she was missing Haldir already! They both got along very well before their engagement considering that they had very similar childhoods. Both of their parents had sailed across the sea leaving them to fend for themselves. Both served on the guard, in fact Minyoiel was a commander like him. The only difference was their number of siblings. Haldir had two brothers, while Minyoiel was an only child. Her parents had wanted more children (hence her name, first daughter) but were unable to conceive. Still, the maiden had found happiness in the arms of the March Warden and they were to be married in several months, or as soon as she returned from Imladris, which ever came first. The elf had never wondered why her and her fiancé had gotten along so well, for they had many other things in common besides their childhood. Minyoiel thought these things over as she wheeled around a sharp corner and bumped straight into a younger elf.

            "Mind yourself!" she cried looking down her nose at him. "Do you even know who I am?" The male shook his head. "I am Minyoiel, commander of Lorien's forces," the maiden responded as though she were Elbereth herself. "You had best step aside and let me pass!" The elf stepped aside.

            Figwit stood in the middle of the library, still dazed from his encounter with the maiden. His hands tingled at the mere memory that they had been inches away from hers. It was not until he heard a slight snigger from behind him that he finally came back into reality. The young advisor whipped around to see Lindir, one of the many librarians. At first, Figwit was insulted. How dare this mere keeper of books laugh at him! But then a thought came upon him. Lindir spent almost all of his time in this large room. His ears were even better trained than that of the Lorien archers. He heard all sorts of whispered conversations and wonderful details. So now, the young councilor approached the other elf with a kind attitude.

            "Oh, Figwit," Lindir wiped the tears from his blue eyes. "You are quite amusing my dear lad." The young elf winced upon hearing this. Did the maiden think he was a fool now too? "You seem so strange in presence when you are around that young commander of Lorien. Why?" Figwit swallowed hard. It was obvious then.

            "Never mind that," he struggled to appear casual. "Would you happen to know who she is?"

            "Ah!" Lindir drew out his exclamation and leaned over the desk he was standing behind. "It's as I thought!"

            "What? What is it that you speak of?" the younger elf was losing his patience now. But the librarian just smiled slyly. He truly treasured his job. It allowed him to study the inhabitants of Imladris for many hours when they were in his domain. And since Figwit was a regular, he could, well, read him like a book. The male was clearly head over heels for the maiden. Oh, how he would love torturing him! Lindir may have seemed cruel, but in reality he was not. The elf just had too much time on his hands. He leaned far back away from the other and looked him straight in his brown eyes.

            "I speak of nothing," Lindir's answer was indifferent. Figwit sighed in relief, good it was not noticed. 

            "Well, would you happen to know the answer to my question then? Who is she?" He waited with bated breath for his inquiry to be fulfilled. 

            "Hmm," Lindir scratched his chin. Oh, this was going to make the hot summer all the more enjoyable. The councilor seemed ready to fall to floor in a dead faint. No, that wouldn't do, he didn't feel like dragging him to the houses of healing at the moment. "Her name is Minyoiel from what I know and she is one of the commanders of Lothlorien's forces. Oh, and yes she'll be here for the entire summer." Figwit drew in his breath sharply. For the entire summer! That would be perfect. During this time in Imladris, many festivals and dances were held to celebrate the season. He would have plenty of time to gather up his courage and ask her to one. But then he mustn't forget the festival that celebrated the close of summer. It was the biggest one of the year. Many elves plighted their troth during this. The advisor sighed happily. It would be the perfect opportunity. 

            "Thank you mellon nin," he bowed to the librarian and headed out of the room. Lindir turned his back on the other elves. His smile grew wide and he chuckled evilly. Yes, he had told Figwit as much as he knew about the maiden, but he had withheld one piece of vital information. And that was the fact that she was already taken, by none other than the March Warden himself! Oh, this would truly be a good summer!

Mellon nin: My friend

Elleth: female elf


	3. Chapter 3 Wild Flowers and Pining

Authors' Note: Here is my third chapter. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the reviews! I just cannot express how happy I am. I was writing another story at the same time, but it had barely gotten any reviews so I was kind of depressed about that. But now I am very happy again! I was going to wait a week to post this next chapter, but since I received your wonderful feedback, I decided to update early. Oh and don't worry about Figwit's name. It will remain Figwit. To answer another reviewer's question about the pronunciation of Minyoiel names, to be quite honest, I am not sure myself. I have been pronouncing it as Min-you-el. But I am really not sure of the correct elven way. Thanks again! Happy Reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings.

Chapter 3 Wild Flowers and Pining 

            The commander of Lorien walked quietly through one of Imladris' many gardens. She struggled to remain in the shade as she did not want her fair skin further damaged by the powerful rays of the sun. Minyoiel was quite annoyed at the fact that even though she was sent here as a soldier, she had not been put on any sort of duty. Lord Elrond had dismissed her with a wave of his hand saying that if orcs attacked he would call upon her for help. But so far this trip had been a waste. The female let her thoughts travel back to Lothlorien where her fiancé dwelled. She missed him quite badly and knew that the other female elves had probably taken her absence as their last chance at Haldir. Thank the Valar that her beloved was strong in love for her and his morals were quite high as well. Suddenly, Minyoiel spun in her tracks. A noise had alerted her ears to a set of bushes that sat behind her. Was someone there? With all the stealth of a well trained warrior, she slipped her small fingers down to her bow. But she never got the chance to draw her weapon, for now there came a cry of, "Minyoiel over here!" Once again she whipped around to see Rumil and Orophin, her soon to be brothers- in-law, beckoning to her from a little ways ahead. Abandoning her mission and deciding that it had just been a squirrel in the shrubs, the elf walked towards them.

            "Mae Govannen," they called cheerily to her. Well, they weren't Haldir, but they would have to do. The female greeted them happily in turn and joined them on the log upon which they sat. 

            "So, I see that you too, linger in this place of heat and silly elves without any mention of guard duty," she smiled grimly at them.

            "Silly elves indeed!" Orophin shook his head in an agitated manner. He then pointed to a cluster of ancient looking trees in the distance. The distinct sound of giddy feminine voices and shrill laughter could clearly be heard from behind them.

            "They have been following us since we arrived," Rumil smirked at the maiden.

            "Hmm, that is quite strange," she said as she once again scratched her ears. Oh, how torturous these insect bites could be! "I have had the same feeling as well. But I have not yet been able to identify my stalker."

            "Mayhap it is an orc dressed as an elf," Rumil shrugged casually. "You never can tell with these Imladris residents." At this, Minyoiel shook her head vigorously and she regaled them with her tale of sheer rudeness regarding the elf who had dared to collide with her.

            "Can you even conceive it?" her voice was growing in intensity. "How dare he? And then he just stood there staring at me like an idiot." The brothers nodded gravely at her heated words. "But did he apologize you ask? No, not a word was uttered from his foul tongue!" Now her manner changed from one of anger to one of grief. "I do not know how much more I can take of this," she fretted while pulling upon her golden locks. "My heart cries out impassionedly for your dear brother!" Rumil and Orophin exchanged nervous glances. They did not like the way this conversation was going. The fact that the words "brother", "heart", and "impassionedly" had been mentioned in the same sentence, frightened them very much. So as politely as they could, the brothers attempted to steer the talk away from Haldir, hoping to try and calm the maiden down somewhat. Oh, this would be quite a long summer.

Figwit had removed himself from his hiding bush when he saw the two male elves join his beloved maiden. From what he could tell, there was no romantic interest between her and one of them, just a good friendship. He had not learned much about Minyoiel in the past hour, but his stalking had not been in vain. With keen eyes, the advisor saw her stop and sniff the many wild flowers. That gave him a good amount of ideas. The first one he planned to put into action right away. With a new sense of determination, he turned back and headed for the wild flower patch. But when he reached his destination, a horrible sight met his brown eyes. There were several elf maidens, sitting among the flowers as was popular to do. They had picked every single fair blossom and were now weaving them into garlands and circlets. It took all of Figwit's self restraint not to scream at them at the top of his lungs. But he did manage to give them a very nasty look, which they readily returned. Well, that plan had failed. But it didn't matter, he had many other ideas. Now, he headed back to the simmering library which was quite empty this time of day. Lindir was still there, sitting with a happy smile upon his thin lips. When he saw Figwit return from his stalking, at first he was alarmed. Could he have found out about the maiden's fiancé? Yet, his fears were quickly put aside when he spied the elf working feverishly at some sort of composition. Every now and then, he would recite it back to himself and then with a disgusted shake of his dark head, crumple up the parchment. This just kept getting better and better. Lindir returned to his small corner of the vast room and prayed to the Valar that Figwit would ask him to proofread it.

After a long while of complaining to the brothers, Minyoiel quickly tired and left them to their great joy. She retired to her stuffy quarters and sat down to write a letter to her dearest. But after a few minutes of sitting up at her desk, her head began to grow heavy from the heat and she decided to finish the note later. Instead she rested her body down upon the soft feather bed and shut her blue eyes for a time. The maiden had almost dosed off when she heard her door burst open with a loud bang. The commander sat bolt upright in bed, her heart pounding in her chest.

            "Minyoiel!" Haldir held out his arms to her.

Mae Govannen: Well Met


	4. Chapter 4 The March Warden in Imladris

Authors' Note: Here is my fourth chapter. Thank you so much for the reviews! I really do appreciate them. They have encouraged me to write more and update much faster than I normally would. Thanks again! I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings.

Chapter 4 The March Warden in Imladris

            Minyoiel could hardly believe her sleepy eyes. I must be hallucinating, she thought to herself as she shook her head vigorously to rid it of any misconceptions. But after this, the elf finally realized that she was not sick with the heat. Her dear Haldir was really standing before her.

            "Haldir," she cried as she launched herself off the bed and into his arms. She would have questioned him about his sudden appearance, but at the moment she was too occupied with his lips. Finally, after a few minutes, she managed to push him off and begin her curious inquiries. "What in the name of the Valar are you doing here? You didn't tell me you were coming! Did Galadriel send you as well?" But the March Warden just laughed and moved over to the bed to sit. He looked quite travel worn in his heavy boots and dusty clothes. His face was slightly sunburned as well and his hands were callused from gripping at his horse's mane. 

            "My dearest," he said with a slight groan of relief as he began to pull off his dirty boots. "You know well that I have had much vacation time building up over the past few decades," he rested his boots in the corner and then pulled off his muddy outer tunic. "So, I thought to myself, what better time would there be to take it?" Minyoiel gasped when he said this. In all the thousands of years that she had known Haldir, out of all the wonderful gifts he had bestowed upon her, this one truly said that he loved her. Haldir never took time off. Not even when he was once wounded on the northern fences. The March Warden had shown up the next day with his arm heavily bandaged, but none the less commanding. The maiden found her self dumb struck.

            "You took a vacation for me?" she did not believe it.

            "Yes, yes," he said as he laid herself down upon her bed with an exhausted sigh. "I left two days after you and have not stopped riding since. My poor horse nearly wilted beneath me." Minyoiel made her way to sit down beside him.

            "How long will you be here?" she asked quietly. At this he sat up and enveloped her in his strong arms.

            "All summer,' he answered. The female stared up into his eyes in wonder. Oh, he truly did love her!

            "Do Rumil and Orophin know?"

            "No, I will see them later. Right now I would like to take a nap. I am exhausted."

            "Oh, yes, yes, of course," Minyoiel moved to lie beside him. In a matter of minutes, they were both asleep.

            Lindir sat perched on a high stool near his desk. Figwit was still in his range of vision and he was putting on quite a show. There had to be at least fifty pieces of crumpled up parchment surrounding his table. Under normal circumstances, the librarian would have been livid at the younger elf. But this was different. He wouldn't mind cleaning up after him this time. Yet now, it seemed that he had perfected his composition. The young advisor was reading it over while nodding his head in delight. Oh well, so much for watching him struggle over it. Just then, the heavy doors of the library swung open and in strode Lord Glorfindel. Lindir immediately busied himself amongst the thick books that lay around him. The flaxen haired elf noticed the librarian and strolled over to him with a small smile upon his lips.

            "Mae govannen Lindir," he said softly so as not to disturb the room's other occupant. 

            "Mae govannen hir nin," the male replied in a whisper as well. The lord then turned and let his crystal blue gaze fall upon Figwit.

            "Why, what in the name of Eru is he doing?" he asked fixing his gaze back upon Lindir.

            "I am not sure my lord," the librarian lied.

            "Oh, I do hope he has not become infatuated with that Lorien maiden," Glorfindel sighed. "You do know of whom I speak?"

            "Why, yes Lord Glorfindel," Lindir forced a smile.

            "Well?"

            "Well what my lord?"

            "Does Figwit have any interest in her?"

            "I am sorry my lord, but that I do not know," he lied for the second time.

            "Well, as I stated before, I truly hope not."

            "Why is that Lord Glorfindel?" The elder elf scratched his chin when asked this.

            "You do know that she is engaged to be married to the March Warden of Lothlorien?"

            "Oh," Lindir moved restlessly in his seat and prayed that Glorfindel did not sense his unease.

            "Well the March Warden has just arrived. He took some time off and is going to spend the whole summer in Imladris with his fiancé." The librarian paled visibly.

            "You mean to say that Haldir of Lorien is here, now?"

            "Yes, Lindir yes. He is going to meet his beloved as we speak." The younger elf uttered a small cry.

            "Are you well librarian?" Glorfindel was genuinely concerned.

            "Aye my lord, it is just the heat."

            "Good." Both male elves turned their gaze back to Figwit. But to Lindir's horror and Glorfindel's confusion, the young councilor was gone.

            After they had slept for awhile, the couple woke up and decided to move out to the terrace to catch any slight breeze that blew. They sat under a canopy of silks that rested upon carved poles in hopes to have some protection from the sun. Haldir leaned forward and kissed his beautiful bride to be many times, while she sat still in shock that he was here. Oh, this is perfect, Minyoiel thought after a time. I am sure nothing could ruin it.

            Figwit had left the library shortly after Glorfindel had arrived. It seemed that he and Lindir were discussing some important matter and he wished not to disturb them. Besides, he had already finished his love poem to the Lorien maiden and wanted to deliver it as soon as he could. In a matter of minutes, the male stood outside the said female's door. After a few moments of deep breathing he raised his hand and knocked softly. No answer came. Could she still be out? He knocked more loudly this time. Still, no reply reached his pointed ears. Maybe he could just leave the poem inside for her to find. Yes, that was a wonderful idea! Smiling to himself at this new stroke of genius, Figwit opened the door and stepped in. The small chamber appeared empty at first, so he laid his poem upon the bed spread with much care. But then something caught his eye. It was a pair of large, muddy boots, made for a male resting in the corner. The maiden's feet were small and petite; they could not possibly belong to her. Mayhap he had the wrong room. Yet before he could turn and flee, a noise coming from the terrace alerted his ears. With a cautious step forward, he moved out to investigate. But the sight that met his eyes was a horrible one. There sat his maiden, her arms wrapped around a golden haired elf. They were.kissing. Figwit gasped loudly and fell to the floor in a faint.

Mae govannen: Well met

Hir nin: My lord


	5. Chapter 5 Fallen But Not Defeated

Authors' Note: Here is my fifth chapter. Thank you so much for the reviews again. They have really encouraged me to continue this story. In the next chapter, you will see more into Haldir and his flaws. One of you gave me a great idea, which was to make him vain. I think I will definitely use that. Thanks! I hope you enjoy it! 

Disclaimer: I do not own Tolkien's work.

Chapter 5 Fallen But Not Defeated

            Haldir and Minyoiel broke apart when they heard Figwit gasp. His eyes had rolled back into his head and the young elf collapsed in a heap. Both elves were at first taken aback, for their well trained ears had missed the sound of his entry. But Haldir finally stood and cautiously walked over to him.

            "Who is this?" he glanced up at his fiancée with a rather accusatory look upon his face.

            "I do not know, love. I think he is one of Elrond's young councilors," she said as she went to kneel beside Figwit as well. "They introduced me to him when I first arrived. What was his name? Figwig? Fitwit? Oh, I can not recall."

            "Well, what is he doing here?" Haldir still seemed slightly suspicious at the fact that another male elf had wandered so freely into Minyoiel's chambers. 

            "How should I know? I've only met him once. But….oh," she suddenly cut off as she remembered the day in the library. "No, he was in the library as well. He dropped his book and I picked it up for him. He seemed slightly strange."

            "What do you mean when you say strange?" the March Warden was still concerned.

            "It must have been the heat," she responded. "But other than that I have not seen him. Unless…" Her memory once again trailed back to the other morning. "I did have the sense that someone was following me before." Haldir snapped his head back up.

            "He has been stalking you?"

            "I am not sure. It could have been anyone."

            "What is this?" Haldir removed a piece of parchment clutched in his hand. After a few minutes of silent reading, his eyes became full of anger and he crumpled the paper in his hand. "It's a love poem," the March Warden said softly.

            "A what?" Minyoiel's shrill voice pierced the quiet air. "Haldir I know nothing of this elf. A love poem? I tell you truthfully, I did not know of that." The elf looked up into the blue eyes of his fiancée and saw that she spoke truth.

            "Well, it seems that he is quite smitten with you then," he managed to smile back at her. The maiden just sighed deeply.

            "I truly had no idea."

            "I know, I know," Haldir reached forward and embraced her. "What do you think we should do with him?"

            "Bring him to the houses of healing dearest," she patted his arm gently. "We do not want him to die. You know how touchy these Imladris elves can be about things like this."

            Indeed the healers of Imladris were stunned when they saw the March Warden carrying the advisor Figwit over his shoulder. The younger elf seemed to have succumbed to the heat and was now unconscious. At first, they were wary of his condition. Had Haldir caused his present state? But after a few minutes of examining him, it appeared to them that he had in fact fainted from the sun. His bearer swiftly left the room after he had dropped off his charge and as he was walking along the halls, near ran into another elf hurrying in the opposite direction.

            "Will you not watch where you are going?" he glowered at the male. Lindir jumped back with a gasp.

            "March Warden, sir please excuse me," the librarian attempted to collect himself. "But, mayhap you can help me." He swallowed hard before asking this next question. "I am looking for a friend of mine. His name is Figwit and he has long brown hair and brown eyes. Have you seen him by any chance?" A smile spread across Haldir's face. Lindir cringed inside when he saw this.

            "Ah, yes I have seen your friend," he titled his head to indicate the houses of healing. "He is in there." With that, the March Warden strode off with an arrogant smirk. His work here was done. The librarian, on the other hand, was in a panic. After his meeting with Glorfindel, he had decided that he could not keep the truth from poor Figwit. But now what was he to do? That horrid Haldir had probably beaten him to a bloody pulp. Taking a deep breath, Lindir gently pushed the door to the healers' room, open. 

            When he first awoke, Figwit was very surprised by his surroundings. Upon his head rested a cold cloth and all of his heavy outer robes had been removed. But what surprised him the most was the fact that Lindir was sitting tensely beside him.

            "Oh Figwit!" he exclaimed. "Please forgive me! I should have told you that the maiden was engaged to Haldir. I never dreamt that he would show up here in Imladris!"

            "Engaged?" Figwit felt his heart sink as he recalled the reason for his fainting. "She's engaged?"

            "Yes, dear lad. I am so sorry," Lindir truly looked sincere. Maybe it had taken the thought of the younger elf getting a lesson from the March Warden to change his heart.

            "Well, I won't let that stop me!" the advisor sat up in determination and was then scolded by one of the healers to lie back down. "I'll just have to try harder to win her favor."

            "But Figwit!" the other elf was in shock. "Do you not know of Haldir, the March Warden of Lorien? He is one of the fiercest fighters in all the elven realms.  He is also extremely protective of his bride to be. And please do not forget the fact that Minyoiel is quite a cold, arrogant elf like her fiancé. You would never capture her heart. You might as well quit now before you get hurt!"

            "Yet she could come to fancy me Lindir!" the young elf was adamant, "with your help and the aide of others. You could teach me to compose love poetry and mayhap someone could teach me how to fight. And the Lady Arwen was always kind to me. She could instruct me in the ways of ellith. If I keep trying, mayhap Minyoiel will see what a wonderful elf I am. I have heard that maidens love nothing more than persistence. They don't like it when you give up on them to easily. You must keep following them and annoying them until they give you a chance."  Lindir was shaking his head slowly with a grim look set upon his face.

            "You truly do need to speak to Arwen about the ways of ellith," he said with a sigh. "For I believe you have been misinformed."

            "But will you help me then?" the elf looked up at him with hopeful eyes.

            "I could do no such thing…." But Figwit would not let him finish.

            "You owe it to me Lindir, after how you tricked me into believing Minyoiel to be single!" The librarian was at a total loss for words. Finally he nodded his head slowly.

            "Oh thank you mellon nin!" the other exclaimed. "You will not regret this!" Lindir, on the other hand, looked very doubtful about that.

Ellith: female elves

Mellon Nin: My friend


	6. Chapter 6 Finding Aide Amongst Enemies

Authors' Note: Here is my sixth chapter. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the reviews. They have been so helpful. I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Tolkien's work

Chapter 6 Finding Aide Amongst Enemies

            It was a beautiful summer day in Imladris. A faint breeze was rustling through the leaves of the trees, while the sun's rays beat down less harshly upon the backs of the elves. All around them the flowers bloomed and the insects hummed happily.

            "Ouch!" Haldir of Lorien slapped his fair neck to ward of the mosquito that had bit into it. He sighed with disgust as he ran his hand along the already rising red lumps and pulled up his collar to try and hide them. The March Warden and his dear fiancée were strolling in one of the gardens on the way to meet his brothers. They had been more or less overjoyed when they heard the news that he had come to Imladris for the summer, the less part being the knowledge that he would be here for the whole summer. They did truly love their eldest sibling, but Rumil and Orophin had been looking forward to a vacation themselves. It would have been a time away from his stern glance, stoic manner and constant whining that his hair was a mess. It was this need of reassurance from his family that kept his attitude arrogant to all others. But as it now seemed to the brothers, as they watched Haldir move towards them, he had already made his mark here. The few elves that were ambling in the gardens at the time stepped far to the side as the overconfident couple approached. They had all been told at least once to mind their ways by Haldir, Minyoiel, or both. And now, they had no need to hear it again, so they simply moved. The two lovers smirked down at the sidestepping elves. Finally, some respect. But Rumil and Orophin greeted their brother warmly none the less, both clasping his arm in theirs, as was the style for warriors.

            "Well, my dear brothers, have you enjoyed your stay in Imladris so far?" Haldir questioned his younger siblings.

            "Yes, Haldir," the answered in unison, like obedient elflings. And even though he knew the answer already, Rumil posed this next question.

            "And what about you my brother? How has your stay been?" The March Warden sighed deeply and began to sound off a list of complaints. One was none other than his sheer distress of being bumped into by another elf. No wonder why he and Minyoiel got along so well. The said elleth, on the other hand, seemed to be very content. Her arms were wrapped around her lover and her golden head rested upon his shoulder. Every now and then she would reach out to stroke his well built chest to immediately direct his attention to her. It was at this time, that he decided to tell them of Figwit. They all had a long laugh at this, but it was suddenly interrupted by a cry from Minyoiel.

            "Daro!" she commanded as she jumped to her feet. The maiden was staring up at the tree beneath which they were all sitting. She had raised a single sunburned finger up at its branches and had a furious glance in her eyes. At first, the brothers thought that the heat had gotten to her as they looked at her quite bewilderedly. But then they caught sight of twin elves sitting in the branches with a bucket of water held between them. "Drop it!" she cried up to them once more. The one on the left smiled widely for a moment.

            "As you wish my lady."

Elladan and Elrohir were greatly disappointed. Mayhap they should have listened to Erestor when he had warned them against any pranks that might offend the March Warden. Dropping that bucket of ice water upon him had not been one of their most intelligent ideas. He had gone into a tirade the second it hit his fair head. His brothers seemed to have been torn between amusement and slight fear. The maiden, however, was just as angry, if not more about the incident.

            "How dare you!" her voice was quite shrill when she yelled. "What in Arda ever possessed you to do that? Look, you've near ruined his tunic!"  The twins had decided that it was best to retreat from that situation. They had heard tell that when mad, Lorien elves could fight very fiercely. They were now sauntering along the corridors of the Last Homely House when they heard someone mention the name, "Haldir." Suddenly, this certain someone had grabbed the backs of their collars and pulled them into the library. 

            "Lindir!" Elrohir nearly shouted. The twins had never upheld the silence rule. "What are you doing, grabbing us out of the halls like that?"

            "Hush," this phrase was always familiar to those around the librarian. "I need your help. Well, Figwit really, but just come with me." Now quite intrigued, the brothers followed the elf to a rather secluded corner of the large room. Sitting there was Figwit, almost twitching at the sight of his tormentors. "Sit," Lindir instructed them as he took his seat next to the advisor. There was silence for a few moments as Figwit tried to collect himself.

            "I need your help," he whispered softly. "I wish to win the fair hand of the Lorien maiden, but I cannot do it alone. If you could help me in some way, I would deeply appreciate it." The twins gaped at the younger elf.

            "Well, Figwit, you have truly lost it," Elladan said. "I didn't think that was possible for an elf."

            "You may as well not try to convince him to stop what he is doing," Lindir said. "I have tried to do so for the past few hours, but he will not heed my words of advice. So it might be best if you just shut your mouths and listen." The brothers now gaped at the librarian. Never had they seen him so forceful about anything.

            "Fine," Elladan turned his gaze back to Figwit. "What would you have us do?"

Daro: Stop

Elleth: Female elf


	7. Chapter 7 A Knight in Shining Armor, Wel...

Authors' Note: Hello again and as usual thank you for all the wonderful reviews! I know these chapters aren't very long, but I will try and lengthen them in the future. I was also thinking of doing a prequel to this story, based on how Haldir and Minyoiel met. What do you think? Well, thanks again and I hope you enjoy! 

Disclaimer: I do not own Tolkien's work.

Chapter 7 A Knight in Shining Armor, Well Maybe Not

            Glorfindel's shoulders shook with laughter. Besides him Erestor sat, trying to regain his normal look of stoicism. Figwit stood before them, his head down, eyes staring at his feet. Lindir was by his side, looking more or less humiliated by his current situation. 

            "Please Figwit, my dear lad, tell us again what it is that you want," Erestor elbowed Glorfindel hard in the ribs as tears of laughter began to form at the corners of the elf-lord's eyes. 

            "I wish to gain the hand of the fair Lorien maiden," at this the golden haired lord burst out into his hysterical peals of laughter. Erestor frowned down at his friend who was near rolling on the floor. "Arwen and the twins have already agreed to help me. I thought, since you two were lords of such great fame, that you might be inclined to help me as well." The chief councilor kicked at Glorfindel as he studied Figwit carefully with his gray eyes.

            "And pray tell us, what is it that you need help with exactly," Erestor fought the amusement that threatened to show upon his face.

            "Well, you both have attended many a fine feast and know well the ways in which to charm a maiden. Mayhap you could teach me more about proper etiquette and," here the young elf swallowed hard. "Mayhap you can teach me how to dance." The corners of Erestor's mouth began to twitch, while it appeared that Lord Glorfindel might wet himself any second now.  It was at this that the chief advisor leaned down with an exasperated sigh and pulled his friend up into a sitting position. Figwit's face was now a shade of deep red as he watched Glorfindel attempt to catch his breath. When he finally did, he muttered these next few words.

            "Why, Figwit, of course we'll help you!"

            It was early in the morning that Figwit was awoken the next day. But unfortunately his waking was not a very pleasant one. Into his private chambers, the twins ran and hopped neatly onto his feather bed. Figwit awoke with a start; he had been torn away from a most wonderful dream, him and Minyoiel plighting their troth. Then when the sleep finally lifted from his eyes and he realized who sat on the edge of his bed, the poor elf let out a terrified screech. 

            "Wake up! Wake up!" the twins chorused in a sing-song voice. "It is nearly dawn, you must rise young advisor." It was at this that they both burst into a loud and somewhat rude song. Figwit had curled himself up into a defensive ball in readiness for any cruel prank the twins might try to pull upon him. But then he recalled his arrangement with them from the pervious night. They weren't here to torment him; they were here to help him! It was at this moment that he removed his head from beneath the covers and stared up at them.

            "You're no going to play some horrible trick on me, are you?" his eyes were still full of question. The set of twins sighed in a frustrated manner.

            "You asked us to wake you early so we could train you before any was up," Elrohir reached for the councilor's hand and pulled him out of bed. "Come now it is nearly dawn, we will only have a few hours."

            A lark chirped happily in a tree just outside the window. The morning air was cool and refreshing compared to the heat of the afternoon. Minyoiel stirred slightly in her bed. She tried to keep herself in the world of dreams as long as possible, not wanting to have to face another day in Imladris. The birds chirping became more insistent, louder this time.

            "Fine, fine," she muttered standing up slowly. "I shall wake." She tried to let happy thoughts enter her mind, as she was not a morning person. At least the quicker I wake, the quicker I will see Haldir. Her fiancé had a room of his own, as it was not proper for unmarried couples to share the same quarters, even if they were betrothed. But instead of smiling at the thought of seeing her beloved, she grimaced. That bird would not be quiet. The maiden moved to the window, now curious to the creature's chatty nature. But what she saw amazed her. There stood Haldir, fully dressed, his hands clasped around his mouth and his lips pursed in a whistle.

            "Haldir," she whispered down to him happily. "What are you doing?"

            "Come," he beckoned up at her. "I thought we could go for a walk during the sunrise." Minyoiel turned from the window and dressed quickly. Then with the skill that only a wood-elf could possess, she slide down one of the outside columns to stand before him. Together, with her arm hooked around his, the made their way through the morning mist and dew. The sun was just rising and a pink light was cast over the beautiful valley. "My dear, I have been thinking about the time we set for our wedding and I have come to a conclusion." The maiden raised her eyes to meet his and let a smile creep upon her lips. They had not set a definite time for their marriage. "Lord Elrond told me that at the end of the summer, they hold a great festival. I thought that perhaps we could celebrate our union then."

            "Oh, Haldir!" she threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. "Of course, that's a wonderful idea!" But before she could say anything else, a noise alerted both of their ears. It was coming from the clearing that was just a little ahead of them.

            Elladan rubbed his temples vigorously. He had always been a calm and laid back elf, but now he felt as though all his patience had left him. Figwit stood before him, his fingers fumbling around a small bow used to train elflings. Finally after a few moments of struggling, he managed to notch his arrow.

            "See, it only took me ten minutes to do it this time!" he smiled up at them triumphantly. 

            "Yes, you did very well," Elrohir smiled back at him. He had always been the more patient of the two. "Now why don't you try firing it this time?" The young elf nodded, his tongue sticking out of his mouth slightly as he aimed rather shakily for the trunk of a tree in front of him. Then with a loud "twang", he released his arrow. But instead of hitting his mark, the arrow traveled past the tree and into the woods. They then heard two loud gasps of surprise and a few muffled curses. Suddenly, the brush was parted and out stepped the March Warden with the rogue arrow in his hand and his bride beside him.

            "Well, Figwit, that is enough training for today," Elladan clapped the other elf on the back and smiled nervously. "We must be off now." With that the twins took off into the forest like two young rabbits fleeing a wolf. Haldir came to stand before the trembling Figwit.

            "Is this yours?" he voice was a deadly whisper. The advisor nodded his mouth too dry to talk. The blond elf than snatched the small bow that the other held. Then with a sense that he used no effort at all, he snapped it in two with his right hand. "See that it doesn't happen again," he muttered laying the pieces back in Figwit's empty hands.


	8. Chapter 8 Love Poetry and Questions

Authors' Note: Here is my eighth chapter. I can't thank you all enough for the reviews. They have truly helped me to better my writing and this story. Thanks! I really hope you enjoy this chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not own Tolkien's work.

Chapter 8 Love Poetry and Questions

            Lindir smiled kindly down at his pupil. The young elf looked quite troubled as his teacher reviewed his work. He was rubbing his hands together and tapping his feet on the floor in a very nervous manner. After a few minutes of thorough inspection the instructor's smile widened even more.

            "Very good Figwit, you have managed to find a suitable rhyme for cat this time," he laid the paper down and pointed to his student's wonderful use of the word. "You are getting much better at poetry." The advisor relaxed when he heard the librarian's approval and stopped his many anxious body movements. "Now, let's try to base a poem upon this maiden of yours. Can you think of any rhyme's that might suit her?" Lindir let the other take his time, for he was still quite shaken up by his near death experience with Haldir. Figwit had come running up to him, his broken bow in his trembling hands.

            "Lindir look look!" he had cried, sheer terror filling his brown eyes. "What am I to do?" The librarian had tried his best to calm down the young councilor, even though it was in vain. But finally, the frightened elf calmed down enough to hold a quill in his now steady hand. They had been working on the arts of poetry for the past few hours and he had to admit, that Figwit wasn't that bad at it. Even his early poems dedicated to the Lorien maiden were almost enjoyable. Now, if he could just improve his grammar and vocabulary some, he might turn out to be a halfway decent writer.

            "Here, Lindir," the advisor held up the parchment for him to inspect. With a well trained eye, he swept quickly over it.

            "Hmm," he rubbed his chin, imitating a well read scholar. "It is very good, my dear boy. But you just need to edit it slightly."

            "How so?" the elf's eyes were wide and full of innocence. 

            "Well, I think you should remove all these foul curses that obviously point to the March Warden. I don't think that will impress Minyoiel very much."

            "Oh, but it doesn't say that they are necessarily directed to him," Figwit's mouth formed a soft scowl.

            "Yes, but it still is not proper to include the words "filthy" and  "orc" so many times in a love poem."

            Word had reached the ears of Rumil and Orophin, that their dear brother was about to be married. And to be quite honest, they weren't sure how they felt about this. Minyoiel was a nice enough maiden, but they didn't like the idea of their sister-in-law being their commander. It was bad enough that Haldir was the March Warden, but now her! Oh, how their palms had begun to sweat. They did love their eldest sibling and his intended, but like Ada had always told them, "Mixing pleasure with business is one way to ensure an orc's arrow in your forehead." But maybe Minyoiel would get pregnant and retire early to care for the elfling. Yet this also had its troubles, a niece or nephew would be a wonderful gift from Eru, but a spoiled brat wouldn't be. And so it was, that Rumil and Orophin began to count down the last days of their lives as the wedding approached. The event itself would be a small affair, with neither Haldir nor Minyoiel wanting much of a fuss. News arrived from Lorien that Galadriel and Celeborn would be coming to the end of the summer festival as was tradition. They would also attend the union of their two most senior wardens. Oh, it was truly a match made in Mandos! This was one of the many memorable events that always defined Imladris' celebrations.

            Lord Elrond was in his usual seclusion in his legendary study. A troubling thought crossed upon his already heavily laden mind and showed in the frown that creased the corner's of his mouth. It was quiet, too quiet. There were no indignant screams of the twin's practical joke victims to be heard. Erestor and Glorfindel had not once burst into his study asking for advice or giving it. Arwen was no longer floating around, her face pale and dreary. And Figwit, his youngest councilor, he had not seen in several days. The Lord of Imladris was very uncomfortable with this. The last time silence had presided over his residence, the outcome had not been pleasant. Finally, Elrond could take it no longer. This peace and quiet was disturbing his work! He summoned Glorfindel and Erestor to his study. He needed answers and now. For some strange reason he had a feeling that it had something to do with the presence of the Lorien maiden and Figwit's obvious infatuation with her. His two advisors and close friends stood with their eyes downcast. It reminded the lord of the time when Erestor had accidentally set the kitchen ablaze and Glorfindel had helped cover for him. But there was no scent of smoke in the air and no screaming servants could be heard. Elrond looked them over carefully.

            "Is there something that I should now about? Something that needs to be brought to my attention as the Lord of Imladris?" he kept his voice indifferent 

and calm.

            "No hir nin," the both replied in unison, their eyes glued to the plush carpet beneath their feet.

            "Are you sure? Nothing regarding Figwit and the Lorien maiden?" It was at this question that Erestor and Glorfindel's answers differed greatly. The flaxen haired lord played dumb, stating that he did not even know of the Lorien maiden while the raven haired councilor just shook his head slowly. "Well, if there is I should like to know. The commander Minyoiel is engaged to the March Warden and they are set to be married by the end of the summer."  When he had finished this statement the two elves' heads snapped up.

            "By the end of the summer!?" Glorfindel looked horrified. "That doesn't give us much time." Erestor stamped on his foot hard and threw him an infuriated glare.

            "Time?" Elrond smiled in curiosity. "Why would you need time?"

            "Oh, no reason," Erestor said with his hand firmly clamped on Glorfindel's mouth. 

Hir Nin: My lord


	9. Chapter 9 Manners and Dancing

Authors' Note: Well, here is my ninth chapter. I am so glad that so many of you are enjoying it and find it funny. Thank you so much for all your positive feedback. Happy reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own Tolkien's work.

Chapter 9 Manners and Dancing

            Arwen was pacing the room. Her soft silk gown rustled ever so slightly as though it had been stirred by a gentle breeze. A frown creased her fair brow and she pursed her rose red lips. This was not well; this was not well at all. No, this would never do, never ever. She glanced up at the sun dial outside her window. Figwit was at least three minutes late! How dare he keep her waiting! Their lesson had been set for ten thirty; it was now at least ten thirty three by her calculations. Thank the Valar, that he had her as a teacher. Imagine if he had been on his way to meet the Lorien maiden! She would be furious, no doubt. Oh where were his manners? Finally, after about another precious minute had passed, the door to the room opened quietly. In stepped Figwit, completely out of breath. He was soaked with sweat and his suede robes were all in disarray. His breath was coming out in spurts and he struggled to make a rather clumsy bow.

            "Hiril nin," he panted. "Please forgive my lateness. "I had to run here from the library, which is a distance away."

            "Humph," Arwen sighed as she began circling the young elf. "Do you know that your bow was completely improper?" 

            "No, I am sorry, I did not," if it was possible Figwit began to sweat more.

            "And had you been on your way to see Minyoiel, she might have been enraged at your lateness. You had better thank Eru, that it was me instead of her!" The advisor gulped; maybe this had been a bad idea. Arwen was nice enough most of the time, but then there were those other times. Suddenly, the maiden gasped and pointed at the hem of his robes. "Look! Look!" she squeezed her eyes shut as if she had seen some terrible sight.

            "What? What is it?" Figwit whipped around, trying to find the offending piece of material.

            "You have a grass stain on your robes!" the lady's voice was shrill, as if the male had just said one of the most distasteful curses. The councilor trembled under her frigid stare. "My, oh my," the tone of her voice frightened him greatly. "We do have work to do."

            Haldir was in a bad mood, a very bad mood in fact, which meant that every living creature would be smart to cower and flee from his presence. The Captain and some of his soldiers had become quite suspicious of the calmness of the Imladris residents. That troublesome young councilor had not been seen in several days. This troubled Haldir greatly. What was he planning? What was he going to do? Paranoia did not come easily to the March Warden, but this was a different situation. If anyone, no matter they be lord or servant, laid a hand upon his dear Minyoiel, then there would be trouble. In fact, trouble was quite an understatement compared to what Haldir would do to the poor individual. So, with all the planning and cunning that came from years of being a commander, he sent his brothers to trail Minyoiel when he was not with her. It was not that he didn't trust her, he just didn't trust certain others. The rest of his soldiers acted as messengers and scouts. If anything strange began to take place, he was to be alerted immediately. By the Valar, no one was going to ruin his wedding!

            "See Figwit! Do you not look so much better?"

            "Err, yes I suppose. But Arwen?'

            "Yes dear?"

            "Do my new robes have to be pink?" The elf held out the flaring sides of his new attire with a skeptical look. Did maidens really like this color? Arwen laughed happily. She seemed in a much more pleasant mood than she had been when he had first arrived. It had been his quick ability to master a "proper bow" that had put her in a good mood once more. So far she had instructed him in the many ways off grooming oneself. He did like his new hair style though, the braids on the side of his face, showing off his pale cheeks, but the robes, they might have been a bit much.

            "Oh, Figwit, these robes are not pink," she patted his arm gently. "They are off white! There is a big difference between off white and pink."

            "Well, you are right, I suppose. Do you have time to teach me something else before my lesson with Glorfindel and Erestor?"

            "No I am afraid not," she glanced once more at the sun dial. "It is near noon and you promised to meet them soon. But tomorrow, I will be happy to continue my lesson. You need to learn how to properly address a maiden and all the subtle intricacies of courting." Figwit nodded as he stood, trying very hard not to wrinkle his new outfit. He did not want Arwen to go into cardiac arrest. Then, pretending that he still had the book atop his head, he made his way proudly from the room.

            Glorfindel and Erestor were lounging in chairs and waiting for the arrival of their student. No one was around, but still, the lords were rather nervous that they might be spotted. At about a quarter past the hour, Figwit arrived, walking slowly, in a manner very similar to that of Lord Elrond. At first they had not been able to discern the exact color of his robes. But it was quickly confirmed, that they were indeed, pink. Glorfindel opened his mouth to let out a laugh, when he was silenced by a look from Erestor.

            "Let us not scare the poor thing away," he growled out of the corner of his mouth. "He just spent an hour and a half with Arwen, so please, be kind to him." The golden haired elf nodded and willed his face to be serious. The elves greeted each other, Figwit being noticeably self-conscious about his robes. To smooth over his awkward state, the two lords got to work immediately.

            "Now, my lad," Erestor took on the fatherly approach. "When dancing with a maiden it is important to remember, never ever step on the hem of her dress, or her foot."

            "Well that is quite obvious," Glorfindel drawled from beside him.

            "Be quiet, I am trying to teach him."

            "How dumb do you think he is Erestor? You treat him as though he was an elfling!"

            "I would like to see you do better Glorfindel. Besides, do you not recall the year when you, yourself were waltzing with that young maiden." The elf-lord swallowed hard when Erestor said this. "I believe you tripped on her skirt and fell flat on your face in front of everyone. And believe me, she did not find that bloody nose attractive in the least bit!"

            "Oh, like you are so holier-than-thou! Recall the time when you became intoxicated…"

            "What does that have to do with dancing?"

            "That's not the point!"

            "Umm, excuse me," Figwit's timid voice broke through their brawl. "Why don't you both just show me how to dance? I would probably learn easier that way."

            "Oh of course," Glorfindel linked arms with Erestor and began to move him gracefully across the polished floor.

            "Let me lead, moron!"

            "Why?"

            "Because I am better than you!"  
            "No, you are not."

            "Yes, I am!" The raven haired elf was adamant.

            "If I let you lead you'll trample my poor toes."

            "No, you're trampling my toes now!" They continued to fight as they danced, each one switching to leadership until a rather amused voice broke in.

            "What is going on here?" They both fell silent and glanced up to see Elrond standing next to Figwit, a board grin upon his face.

            "It was his idea!" Both elves pointed towards the other, panic clearly spreading across their faces as Elrond laughed merrily. 

Hiril nin: My Lady


	10. Chapter 10 The Heat Boils Over

Authors' Note: Here is my tenth chapter. Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews! And yes, I do agree with you Laureline, there are too few Erestor romances. He is another one of my favorite characters; maybe I should do a fic with him. I have also been thinking about doing a prequel to this story. It would be about Haldir and Minyoiel met and fell in love. But don't worry, it'll be a comedy. I have also put a small poem in here which one of you requested, I hope you like it. Oh and could someone tell me if ellith is in fact the plural of elleth. I was not sure. Thanks again! I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Tolkien's work.

Chapter 10 The Heat Boils Over

            A long week passed by in Imladris. Glorfindel and Erestor were still refusing to speak to each other and resulted to many forms of childish substitutes. This included many a, "Figwit will you please tell LordGlorfindel, that I do not have his quill pen." Or another very popular one was, "Figwit, please run along to that housekeeper Erestor and tell him that the servants require more wood for the kitchen. The great feast is almost upon us and the head of the household should know such a thing." But it seemed that Erestor himself was too busy to notice any of the comments or death glares that his friend threw out to him. It was at this time of year that he was most busy, it being his job to arrange all feasts and celebrations. Figwit had decided that he should put his dancing lessons on hold and concentrate more on Arwen, the twins and Lindir's lessons. Thank the Valar that Lord Elrond had not questioned the strange behavior of his two councilors when he had come upon them dancing. But it was clear to all that he was just biding his time and waiting for the end of summer to give them all a sound tongue lashing. Time seemed to pass by much more quickly now and Figwit too felt himself caught up in the preparations for the feast. But he did manage to find some time to continue his battle towards refinement. Everyday without fail he would attend to Lindir's library and practice handwriting and writing in general. His poems had become quite good in fact, though when he slipped up his teacher as reminded him of his past failures by reading one of his less flattering poems. It went something like this:

"I gazed at thee in ever dawn

Upon Imaldris' pure green lawn

Where flowers bloom in quite spring

And hosts of Eldar calmly sing

Your body lithe and full of health

While by your side stands a filthy elf

Yet you do stay, free from harm

While an orc grasps onto your delicate arm."

            At this Figwit would turn a brilliant shade of red and try to better his poetry skills. Arwen had moved on from adjusting his physical appearance to now his manners in courting a maid. Every time the advisor left her lessons, he felt even more bewildered than before. Apparently ellith did not like being stalked. The twins, after having shaken off their slight fear of the March Warden, began to teach the young elf fencing skills once more. His archery still lacked much, but that was neither here nor there. He seemed to be more adept to the use of the sword, so that was their strong focal point, even if he still used an elfling's blade. And it was on that fateful day, a week before the festival that they found themselves training in a not so secluded glade where they were easily detected.

            Minyoiel clasped onto the arm of her "orc." A smile lit her normally sullen features as they traipsed throughout the Imaldris training grounds. Many of their Lorien archers stopped to great the couple, them being their most esteemed commanders. The soldiers were restless though, a few months of sheer boredom and not a single foul beast slew. They also had had many difficulties in their relations with the residents of this elven refuge. Many of the maidens wished to flirt with them, though they much more preferred the comforts of home. At least the wedding would be something to look forward to, even if it was a small one. Haldir too, began to feel a sense of great desire for action. His lovely fiancée was content, secure in the feeling that they would soon be wed, while he wished for a chance to show off his great fighting skills. He had been discussing such matters with his soldiers (his brothers among them) and Minyoiel, when a not so distant sound reached their ears.

            Two blades met in the center of a glade. They both moved in predetermined parries as the owners quickened their pace. Elrohir, who was fighting with Figwit, seemed a little more hard pressed to keep his student at bay. Elladan had long given up, for he was nervous that the young advisor just might best him, and stood in the corner, watching with a bemused smile upon his face. Figwit's tongue was held between his teeth as sweat dripped from his brow. He was wearing only breeches and a light shirt, for robes were too troublesome for training in such a manner. Arwen had in fact come to join them and actually refrained from wrinkling her nose in disgust. She sat in the corner opposite Elladan, with her feet delicately tucked under her silky dress. Lindir stood besides her, having long wanted to see his poetry student's skill with a blade. Then a few moments later, Glorfindel and Erestor appeared, they had been forced to give up their immature bickering as the date of the feast loomed nearer and nearer. Now all watched as Figwit almost managed to disarm Elrohir, but the other elf stopped before he could, still holding on to some of his dignity.

            "That was very good, Figwit," the twin commended him. But before his pupil could respond, a wave of loud laughter hit upon them. All eyes turned to the entrance of the glade to see the Lorien archers standing there with Haldir and his fiancée in their lead.

            "Ai Elbereth!" Haldir guffawed obnoxiously. "You called that good! That was terrible! I could do much better!" Before he knew what he was doing or saying, Figwit responded.

            "Oh I bet you couldn't!" he cried, his voice seemingly shrill compared to the March Warden's masculinity. 

            "Really?" Haldir stepped up to him. "Do you wish to challenge me?" At this all in the glade shouted no, while Figwit did the unthinkable.

            "Yes," the advisor looked braver then he felt. "Yes I do."

            "Fine." They began to circle each other, both with a look of death in the depths of their eyes. But then, before he knew what was happening, Figwit was on the ground and Haldir sat on top of him. His face was pressed into the dirt and soil flew up his nose, making him choke. The Captain's weight was a great one indeed as he felt the bones in his back begin to crack under it. Haldir smirked down at him. "Had enough?" Yet then another large weight (make that two) jumped atop Haldir. The twins, though small in stature, managed to drag him off. And when the councilor lifted his dirt stained head, he saw that a full scale elven riot had broken out in front of him.

Ellith: Female elves


	11. Chapter 11 Brawling Like Elflings

Authors' Note: Here is my eleventh chapter. I apologize that I did not update sooner but I was very busy with my other story, "Married to the March Warden." I thank you for your patience and also for your wonderful reviews. Thanks again! I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Tolkien's work.

Chapter 11 Brawling Like Elflings

            Figwit could not believe his brown eyes, before him had broken out a full scale elven riot. The twins had tackled Haldir and were now wrestling him to the ground. The March Warden was not going down without a fight though. He kicked and threw punches aimed at the sons of Elrond. Elladan took quite a hard punch in the side of the face. He stumbled back for a minute but then regained his ground as he successfully knocked Haldir to the ground. On the other side of the glade however, Arwen had jumped on Minyoiel's back and was proceeding to pull out her silver hair with an elvish war cry. The Lorien maiden screamed and then finally managed to push the crazed elleth off her. Arwen fell to the dirt but then used her satin slippers as weapons. She kicked at Minyoiel's shins sending the other elf falling backwards and clutching her legs. The Captain's soldiers, who had also wandered into the glade with him, were now doing battle with Glorfindel, Erestor and Lindir. Glorfindel was quite a sight to behold, having had much training in the areas of combat. He turned and kicked and then sensing another elf behind him whipped around and planted his fist in the other's face. Lindir and Erestor were a little more hard pressed to keep up with their friend. Erestor, being a scholar stayed behind the blond elf and only fought when necessary. Lindir would attempt to throw a few punches, but then Glorfindel would have to come and rescue him from the other elf for his aim wasn't very true. The only elves that weren't fighting besides Figwit were the brothers of the March Warden himself. They seemed to be debating on which side to join. It all boiled down to who they feared the most, the Imladris elves who they would soon depart from, or their brother who they would have to live with for the rest of their eternal lives. They chose their brother. As one, the two elves launched themselves upon the twins and tried to drag them off the said elf. Figwit would have stayed out of the fight, had a Lorien elf not come up to him and promptly hit him on the head. The young advisor fell unconscious as the riot continued to brew all around him.

            When he finally awoke, Figwit found himself in the healers room, which for some strange reason, didn't surprise him these days. His forehead sported a single stitch will his back remained quite sore from the March Warden having knocked him to the ground. All around him in beds lay moaning elves. Most were bruised and beaten while others were bleeding. On the far side of the room sat the brave Lorien Captain, his eyes clamped shut as a healer closed a deep cut near his right eyebrow with a few stitches. The twins and Haldir's brothers were ironically sitting on beds opposite each other, all with some sort of minor injury. Erestor and Lindir did not seem to much the worse for the wear while Glorfindel remained unwounded. Poor Arwen however had a quite visible black eye but this did not seem to trouble her, in fact she still clutched a handful of Minyoiel's hair in her pale hand. Now Figwit strained his eyes to find the fair maid and let out a surprised squeak when he saw her resting in the bed next to him. There were claw marks down the sides of her cheeks and her left ankle was heavily bandaged and rested upon a feather pillow.

            "It's sprained," a healer proclaimed to his partner. "She is going to have to keep off it." The elleth moaned quietly, but it was not a moan of pain, but a moan of absolute disgust. The rest of the Lorien elves lay scattered about, many glancing around nervously at the Imaldris elves. Haldir moved slowly over to his bride to be. Figwit cowered slightly even though he knew that the March Warden wouldn't dare pick a fight with him in front of all the healers.

            "Oh, Minyoiel I am so sorry," he knelt down by her bedside and ran his fingers through her hair. She opened her eyes and smiled.

            "I've had it worse meleth nin, my ankle will get better in time," at least she wasn't complaining loudly about the pain. But now, the young advisor felt guilt tug at his heart. All he wanted was the one he loved the most to be happy. But now, she was hurt and very unhappy at the moment. It didn't occur to him that it was probably her own fault and that she did have it coming to her. He was about to lean over and apologize risking another beating by Haldir, when Lord Elrond came storming in.

            "What in the sweet name of Elbereth do you think you're doing!" he cried addressing everyone in the room. "You have all been brawling like elflings!" He turned to face his twin sons who actually whimpered and moved away from their enraged father. "You two! I thought that Erestor and Glorfindel and I had warned you not to pick a fight with them! And yet you attacked the March Warden! Shame! Shame be on you!" All of the occupants in the room had hushed, some even stopped moaning. "And you three," he turned on Glorfindel, Erestor and Lindir who seemed to be trembling slightly. "You mature, dignified councilors of mine and my own librarian. You are all hypocrites and liars! You promised to watch out for my sons and yet you instigated it! And when I asked you if any thing foul was going on him my house you lied and told me no. Shame! And after I laid my trust and faith in you." The three elves mumbled apologies but they fell upon deaf ears. He then rounded on Arwen, but surprisingly didn't yell. "Arwen I am proud of you for defending the honor of Imaldris, you fought bravely." The lady blushed and curtsied to her father.

            "Thank you Ada," Elrond nodded when she said this and then moved to face Haldir.

            "Oh, March Warden," he pointed an accusatory finger in the once brave elf's direction. "You who are here on leave. How dare you disturb the peace of my havens? The Lord and Lady of Lorien will receive a horrible report on how their soldiers behaved and conducted themselves." At this, all of the Lorien elves groaned. They did not want their Lord and Lady angry with them, the repercussions would be of a terrible nature. But now, the Lord of Imladris finally turned to face Figwit. "And you, my youngest advisor," Figwit gulped when he saw the vein pulsing on Elrond's forehead. "I wish to see you separately in my study, after you are deemed able to walk." Then after he had finished, the Lord swooped out of the room with a wave of his robes.

Meleth nin: My love

Ada: Father

Elleth: female elf


	12. Chapter 12 Elrond's Advice

Authors' Note: Here is my twelfth chapter. I am so sorry that I have not updated quicker. I have been very busy with my other stories and my own writing. I thank you so much for your patience. The next chapter after this one, however will unfortunately be the last one. I thank you again for all the wonderful reviews I have received. Thanks! I hope you enjoy! 

Disclaimer: I do not own Tolkien's work.

Chapter 12 Elrond's Advice

            Figwit winced and gulped as he heard the heavy wooden door slam shut behind Lord Elrond. All eyes were upon him and even Glorfindel and Erestor seemed quite terrified, for it was not often when the Lord of Imladris lost his temper, but often enough for everyone to know to stay clear of him. But now, it was different. The wolf had singled out a stray sheep and was moving in for the slaughter and Figwit just so happened to be that misfortunate creature. The young elf looked around the room for help, but no one would heed his plea. Most averted their eyes are pretended to be preoccupied with their wounds, some just simply stared straight back at him, with a look of pure refusal written on their faces. The elf let a shuddering sigh escape his being. There would be no avoiding it. He stood, not knowing if the trembling of his knees was due to the head injury or fear and made his way slowly to the door. He had the condemned look of an elf heading to his execution and not one person stepped forward to offer him comfort or solace. But finally, as his hand brushed against the ornamentally carved door, Arwen voiced her consoling words.

            "Do not fear Figwit," she said cheerfully, "Ada did not seem too angry." 

            Elrond forced himself to remain emotionless. His young advisor stood shaking before him. The elf's face was pale despite the stitches that adorned his forehead. Even though he was still quite upset with the councilor, he could not help but pity him. The lad was clearly love struck, completely swept up in the smile that was the Lorien maiden's. After a few moments of looking over Figwit, Elrond felt his anger slipping away. He smiled and let a small chuckle escape his lips. Figwit's head snapped up. Oh no, he thought, Lord Elrond must really be planning something horrible for me, I have never seen him like this before. But Elrond continued to laugh.

            "Oh, my dear boy, you have to let her go," the young elf did a double take when he heard his lord say this.

            "What do you mean hir nin?" he stuttered, he was truly lost.

            "I know that you fancy the Lorien maiden," he continued. "But she is in love with someone else and you cannot hope to separate them." Figwit felt his heart begin to beat rapidly in his chest. How could Lord Elrond know this? He had taken care as to alert as few people as possible. But now, his own lord was speaking plain about it.

            "I did not know that you were aware of this hir nin," the young elf continued his voice shaking.

            "Figwit, my lad," the older elf stood and walked to the other's side, "I was the one to found this elven refuge and I know a great deal about its residents. And when all goes quiet and Glorfindel and Erestor manage to stop bickering for at least a day, I came to my conclusions. Besides the look on your face alone told me all that I needed to know." The advisor dropped his head in shame and for the first time, he gave up hope of ever gaining the affection of Minyoiel. Elrond seemed to sense his depression and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "But you must not despair," he said softly. "You have had but your first taste of love and it is not true love. When you finally find the one meant for your care, you will know it. And I know that now you feel very hurt and alone, but believe me you are not, for I myself went through the same thing when I was about your age." Figwit raised his head in surprise once more. For some reason he couldn't imagine the Lord of Imladris bumbling around as he had just this very day. Yet, Elrond nodded gravely and let a small smile appear on his face. "When I was younger I met a beautiful maiden. Such was her beauty that I could barely believe my eyes. But like Minyoiel, she was already claimed by a bold and gallant elf lord. So for weeks I tried and tried to gain her favor, but she ignored me until I thought I would fade from grief. I returned to my home, despairing and defeated in my quest to win her love. A few years past by, well many years actually and then I met Celebrian. I thought my heart would burst upon first laying my eyes on her. The love I felt for her was nothing compared to the one I had felt for the pervious maiden. And as you see, I now have three beautiful children and even though she is not with me, I still love my dear wife." The young elf smiled, feeling happiness creep back into him at the words of his lord. "Let Haldir have the maiden," Elrond continued. "You can do much better than her anyway, understood?"

            "Yes, hir nin," he stood up straight and proud once more, ready for the new challenge of finding his own true love. But then, a question pushed itself into his mind and in his boldness, he dared to ask it. "Does this mean that I am still in trouble, Lord Elrond?" he asked brightly thinking that the answer would be a positive one.

            "Oh yes, Figwit, you are still in an enormous amount of trouble," the lord's smile widened. "I am just waiting for the arrival of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel to decide your punishment." The grin quickly faded from the young elf's face.

            "Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel?" he squeaked. "When are they due to arrive?" And as if the Valar had decided to answer his question for him, a strong knock sounded on the door.

            "My lord Elrond," a voice called. "The Lord and Lady of Lorien have arrived!"

Ada: Father

Hir nin: My Lord 


	13. Chapter 13 A New Maiden

Authors' Note: Here is my thirteenth and final chapter. Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews that I have received! I really do appreciate it. I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Tolkien's work.

Chapter 13 A New Maiden

            With the air of grace and nobility Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel dismounted their two white horses. It had been a long journey from Lorien, but from what they had heard from Elrond's messengers, it was well worth it. Their son-in-law himself came to greet them shortly after their arrival, sweeping into the courtyard in some of his finest robes.

            "Hir nin," he laid his hand upon his heart and extended it out in the elven manner. Lord Celeborn did the same. Then the Lord of Imladris turned to his most esteemed mother-in-law. "Mae govannen, hiril nin," he bowed and kissed her hand. But Galadriel observed him coolly, taking in all of his unspoken language.

            "It has been quite a stressful summer for you, has it not?" she finally spoke, her musical voice, gentle and kind. Elrond sighed and shook his head.

            "Aye," he muttered. "Quite an uproar has been brought to my household.

            "I hope it has nothing to do with the presence of our guards and March Warden," Celeborn inquired in a worried tone.

            "No, not at all," the lord answered, being as best a host as he could. "There was a little strife between Haldir and one of my younger advisors, but that has passed now."

            "Ah, but you are not being truthful with us, I'm afraid," Galadriel linked her arm with his as Elrond swore quietly in his head, forgetting that she could read minds. "Come, enlighten us."

            Figwit, having decided that it was best to clean up his wounds before his execution, headed back to the healers' hall. Inside it was deadly quiet and when he pushed open the heavy door, all gasped.

            "He's alive!" Elladan whispered loudly to his twin. "I would have thought that he would be dead by now." But the young elf paid no attention to them, instead he moved back to his bed, where he was surprised to find Rumil and Orophin sitting on the edge of it, arguing with their brother, who sat opposite them. Minyoiel appeared to be dozing peacefully, yet one of her hands still stroked the back of her fiancé. Normally, Figwit would have shied away and found another bed that was not occupied, but now, he just didn't care.

            "You see what you have done now brother!" Orophin was growling at the March Warden. "We are all in trouble because of you! You could not just leave things alone. No, you had to start a riot. And that is why mother always favored us."

            "What?" Haldir hissed, back, equally distressed. "How dare you speak of mother like that? You both know that she favored me!" And though Figwit was thoroughly enjoying this argument, he really wanted to lay down.

            "Excuse me," his voice was neither timid nor rude, "may I please have my bed back." The brothers looked up at him in shock.

            "Of course," Rumil muttered. They stood and moved across the room.

            "Thank you," he replied respectfully and laid down. Haldir however, did not move from his position and Figwit was quite aware of his eyes upon him. After a few tense minutes, the Captain sighed and turned his attention back to his bride.

            "Well, that is quite a tale you have told us," Galadriel replied bemusedly. 

            "Hmm," Elrond rubbed his temples and turned to face the lord and lady who were now comfortable seated in his study. "I do feel very sorry for Figwit. Mayhap I should not have promised him a punishment. But then I could not go back on my word."

            "Would that really be all that bad?" Celeborn asked. "It would be just this once after all. No one needs to know. Besides, watching Minyoiel get married is enough of a punishment for him."

            "I suppose so," the half-elf agreed. "Just don't let it out that I have become soft, or else I'll be ruined."

            The day of the wedding dawned bright and clear. The birds chirped happily in the trees and the sky was of the lightest blue. Most of the Imladris elves were quite cheerful, for they would finally be free of the cruel tyranny of the Lorien guards. But Figwit himself could not find a reason to be joyous. Even though he had repeated Elrond's words of advice in his head, he could not help but feel that Minyoiel was meant to be with him. And even as he stood on the sidelines next to Lindir, Erestor and Glorfindel, he felt more depressed than he had been in his whole entire life. Several minstrels played soft tunes from their instruments and Minyoiel began to make that seemingly endless trip down the aisle. And just when he was about to despair, Lindir nudged him hard in the ribs.

            "Look!" he whispered and pointed toward Haldir, who stood with his brothers at the other end of the aisle. The March Warden seemed very pale. Perhaps it was because he was not used to wearing dress robes in such extreme heat or perhaps it was because the full weight of what he was about to do had just fallen upon him. But whatever the reason was, it did not matter, for now he was slowly turning green. Minyoiel was only about halfway down the aisle, her white dress trailing behind her and sweeping up the tossed rose petals when it happened. The Captain's huge form suddenly swayed and then with an almighty crash, he fainted, smacking his head on one of the benches set to the side and bringing some of the floral arrangements down with him. Rumil and Orophin had tried in vain to catch him, but now they stood over their fallen brother both blaming the other for not supporting him. Minyoiel hiked up her skirts and trotted over to her fallen groom, while Lord Elrond along with the Lord and Lady of Lorien began to revive the March Warden. The whole scene was rather comical and Figwit couldn't help but let a loud shout of laughter out. He was quickly followed by Lindir, Glorfindel and finally the twins. And before they knew it, all of the Imladris elves were hysterical, letting two months of pure aggravation directed towards Haldir out. But when he was revived all laughing ceased immediately and the ceremony continued on without event. 

            Haldir stood shaking the hands of all those present at his union as they trickled into the feasting hall. He was holding a cold compress against his head and had no memory of his brief loss of dignity. So you can imagine his great perplexity when a few elves burst again into shrill laughter as they shook his hand. But, being too wrapped up in his reception, the Captain ignored it and turned his attention to Minyoiel. They shared the first dance and then many other couples began to follow their example and headed out onto the space provided for dancing. But Figwit stood alone, the others having moved off with maidens of their own, leaving him to watch in envy. He scanned the dance floor bleakly, when suddenly he caught sight of her. She was the most radiant creature he had ever seen, even more beautiful than Minyoiel had been! She had deep gold hair that fell about her waist and even though she was waltzing with a tall elf lord, he felt up for the challenge. It was just then that Lindir walked over and interrupted his fantasy.

            "Figwit!" he exclaimed. "Why are you looking at the Lady Galadriel like that?"

Hir nin: My lord

Hiril nin: My Lady

Mae govannen: Well met__


End file.
